Once more unto the bleach dear friends!

Boris and Gove take the Vote Leave fight to a toilet cleaner warehouse in the home of Shakespeare

Denys Shortt, Gisela Stuart, John Longworth, Michael Gove and Boris Johnson warn the staff of a chemical distribution company about the dangers of the EU. (PA)

“He will lie, sir, with such volubility, that you would think truth were a fool,” says Parolles to Bertram in All’s Well That Ends Well. And how appropriate such words might have been, on the day the EU referendum came to the Bard's home of Stratford-upon-Avon, if Messrs Gove and Johnson had not chosen to repair directly to an out-of-town distribution warehouse for toilet cleaner, Pot Noodle, Lynx Africa and a shower gel by the name of Fruity Passion Splash.

So then, once more unto the bleach dear friends! And with more than two weeks still to go, who could blame you?

It was in one sense, Shakespearean. There were no seats. Just a concrete floor upon which an audience mainly of fork lift drivers gathered to gaze upon of a towering wall of Enliven handwash and Listerine mouthwash to listen to the sad soliloquising of a host of tragic heroes. Within fifteen seconds they’d opened the Brainwash.

“Albania, Macedonia and Turkey are all likely to have joined the EU within ten years,” the warehouse boss Denys Shortt OBE breezily and falsely told them before introducing his guests.

John Longworth was next, that former head of the British Chamber of Commerce who became famous for less than fifteen seconds when he stood down from his post so he could take the fight to Europe.

He wasted no time in explaining how being in the EU was like being stuck in a room with a giant German spider and an unexploded single currency bomb.

“That is the double jeopardy of Remain,” he warned, gazing with due foreboding at the industrial shrink wrapping machine at the back of the room. The justice secretary Michael Gove was standing to his left and nodded along in agreement. You don’t need a law degree to know that double jeopardy means if you’ve already been eaten by a German spider you can’t then also get blown up by a euro bomb. You just need to have seen the 1999 crime thriller, Double Jeopardy, in which Ashley Judd plays a giant German spider armed with a euro bomb and a determination to enforce economic austerity on Southern Europe, represented by an icy cool Tommy Lee Jones. And if you've not seen the film, you can just write a few columns on the subject for The Times, get yourself a gold brocade frock coat and everything should be fine.

Perhaps that’s unfair. There were at least three members of the audience whose faces remained unglazed as Mr Gove explained the “fundamentally political agenda of the European Court of Justice to further the cause of European integration no matter what democratically elected legislatures think".

Now, I’m no snob. I’ve worked as an industrial cleaner at Dagenham Ford’s, albeit not for very long. I say this with due trepidation but all over the country, all you hear anyone normal say is, ‘Give us the information.’

This was a group of people who, for the most part, move palates of Fruity Passion Splash about a warehouse all day. It’s possible the primacy of ECJ legislation may not be what fires their interest in a debate that has in itself been forced upon them against their will.

Immigration might be, at least if half the staff weren’t economic migrants who’d been forced to spend their morning listening to a load of politicians and their boss having a go at immigrants.

It's possible they're not hugely concerned about the EU's "democratic deficit" that Boris Johnson moved on to, railing against the undemocratic courts and the unaccountable parliament. “It is the very absence of democratic control that is having all sorts of disastrous economic consequences, both for Britain and for the EU,” he said.

They’re words that might be worth remembering, come 24 June. The absence of democratic control and its disastrous economic consequences might just seem a pithy summary when the financial markets have gone mad and – hang on – what’s this? We’ve not had an election and that bloke who’s spent the last three months going on about the "undemocratic EU" is padlocking his bicycle to the Number 10 railings like Bullingdon’s own Frank Underwood.

Parolles continues: “He has every thing that an honest man should not have. What an honest man should have, he has nothing.”

Still, all’s well that end’s well. We hope.